Chapter Five

An Old Rival And A New Love

‘The Square Inn' had, I guessed, been named by someone who'd tried out a few names in his head, disliked all of them and just thought; ‘ screw it, I'll name it what it is' .

‘Cube' would have been the geometrically correct term (geometry was not a major feature of the Assassins' Guild curriculum, but we got a grounding), but ‘square' covered it and it lived up to the name from every angle.

Suitably named or not, the inn had no rooms available for the night until Nicolo introduced himself, at which point one became vacant, followed swiftly by all the others, which meant I got a room too.

"Do the shutters bolt from the inside?" asked Nicolo.

"Yes, your worship," affirmed the innkeeper who seemed to be more moustache than man.

"And the door locks from within?"

"Of course."

"How many keys are there?"

The moustache frowned. "In total?"

"Precisely."

"Well," the innkeeper made the face of a man to whom counting did not come naturally. "You've got one, and I've got one, and there's two spares in case more than one person is spending the night in there (we often get people cheaping out that way!), and the wife has one too. So…"

"Five."

"Five it is, your honor," nodded the innkeeper, relieved that Nicolo had done the heavy arithmetic.

Nicolo held out his hand.

The innkeeper quickly picked up on what was being demanded and fossicked about until he'd found the keys. He placed four into Nicolo's outstretched palm.

"I usually keeps one back in case of emergency." All credit to the innkeeper, as he saw Nicolo's face he kept going without even a pause. "But in this instance, I don't think that'll be necessary."

The fifth key was placed in Nicolo's hand.

"I am sorry for the inconvenience," Nicolo answered.

"Inconvenience, your lordship?"

Nicolo looked around himself at the now empty inn. "That all your other guests have left," Nicolo said, as he pocketed the keys. "Please allow me to pay for their rooms as well."

"Oh, I wouldn't hear of it, your Grace." The innkeeper would be happy to get out of the next twelve hours alive. "And please take your room on the house, as well."

"That is most generous," smiled Nicolo. "Too generous."

"Well…"

"In the circumstances, I insist you allow my squire to pay for her own room."

The innkeeper beamed while I did a double-take. "Well, since you insist."

I wanted to shoot back a comment at Nicolo, to have some fun at his expense since he was having some fun at mine. Two weeks ago, I would have, and there would have been a brief back and forth, it would have gotten a bit naughty perhaps and then he would have threatened to beat me.

But that easy, flirtatious, and slightly troubling bi-play between us was now gone and in its place was the awkward sound of chirping crickets. So I reached inside my pocket for the pouch of money Nicolo had given me (I was in charge of keeping track of our money) and I paid the man for my room, passing him a few more coins for Nicolo's, as well.

"Your key." Nicolo handed me the key to a room that was as far from his as possible. "Goodnight, Charlotte."

"Goodnight, Master."

He nodded and walked away towards the stairs.

***

The following morning, I left my room on the ground floor and headed for the stairs where Nicolo's room was on the far side of the room and the second floor.

"Your master said to wait for him down here," the innkeeper said, as he saw me and I wondered if his moustache had grown larger overnight or if I'd just forgotten how massive it really was. "He's breakfasting in his room."

It seemed to be one step forward two steps back with Nicolo at the moment which was frustrating and then some. Though I wasn't exactly sure why I was frustrated, because by this point, I really had no plans to kill him. I kept hoping the impetus or the drive would return and yet it seemed my killing days (where Nicolo was concerned) might have flown the coop.

Blast.

"Thank you," I said with a quick nod.

"He said you'd want your breakfast down here," the innkeeper went on, adding, "And he said you'd want to pay for it."

I nodded. "Yes, of course."

We might not be as chummy as before, but Nicolo still apparently had his sense of humor.

Both the bed and the breakfast at the Square Inn were excellent and so we left in good spirits when Nicolo came down the stairs and exiting the inn, we saddled up and rode on.

"Nice place. We should stay here again on our way back."

"Yes, Master."

He gave me a sly smile. "I quite liked the view from my second story window."

I looked at him and gave him the sweetest smile I could manage. "I quite liked the view from mine."

"And what could your view have been?" he frowned.

"Oh, just one of the male workers in the stables."

His frown was decidedly more downturned. "I wasn't aware that men worked the stables in the evenings?"

I nodded excitedly. "They most certainly do—in the buff."

"In the buff?" he seemed genuinely perturbed by this point.

I shrugged. "Well, without their shirts, anyway." Then I breathed in deeply, trying not to laugh at his obvious displeased countenance. "And the way his muscles moved about as he lathered up the horses—it was a feast for the eyes, sir."

"And just whose horses was he lathering up after the sun had gone down?"

"I'm not certain I know, sir, but I was quite envious of all those suds and..." It was at that point that I chanced a glance at my master and found his cheeks grown quite pink and his eyes narrowed, his jaw tight. And I could no longer keep up my guise and lost my act to a high-pitched giggle.

"Very funny, Charlotte," he grumbled. "If I've never truly wanted to take you over my knee before, I certainly do now."

"This conversation again?"

With that, he spurred his horse, Proteus, on and left me in his dust again. But this time, I had to admit, I felt the victor.

***

It was perhaps another hour before Nicolo slowed his steed and resumed his ride beside me. We didn't say anything to one another for the span of twenty or so minutes. Then he turned to me and nodded.

"Your bed at the inn was comfortable then?"

"Yes, Master."

"And you slept well?"

"Yes, Master."

"Good," he answered with a quick nod. "And you feel rested enough for the long ride ahead of us? You got enough to eat?"

"Yes, Master. Yes, Master."

"Charlotte, you're doing a compelling impression of a parrot this morning."

"Sorry, Master."

"It's a long ride so unless you want to eat seed and cuttlefish, I suggest you endeavor to be more conversational. Now, how was your breakfast?"

"Expensive, Master."

Nicolo laughed a big genuine laugh. He even laughed differently outside of the Gath.

"Good. It would have been very bad manners to leave that poor man nothing."

"How was your breakfast, Master?"

"Excellent," smiled Nicolo.

"As was your view," I added with a smile. "Most excellent."

"Yes, and I care not about discussing views with you any longer," he said hurriedly, no doubt worried I'd go on again about the fictitious, half-naked stable man. "I'm pleased you paid the innkeeper, Charlotte."

"Master?"

"The poor man would have been terrified if I'd given him money," he continued and by this point, I figured I'd made him so uncomfortable with the conversation about my view that he was searching for anything else to discuss. "He'd have been trying to find ways to give it back to me. People like that are used to being rooked by the nobility so now it's reached a point where even if I wanted to pay, I couldn't because he'd be waiting for the other shoe to drop."

He was right, of course. There was no way the innkeeper would have taken Nicolo's money, even if it was to pay for my room. And it had amused Nicolo to make it a joke at my expense. Literally.

"You seem quiet this morning, Charlotte."

I took a chance. "With respect, Master, you seemed quiet last night."

A sharp look entered Nicolo's face. "You expected me to creep down and knock on your door, did you? Because of the night of the banquet?"

He'd misunderstood me, and I hastened to correct him before I made things worse between us. "No, Master."

"I seem to recall asking you not to call me ‘master'," he nearly interrupted.

"No, you told me not to call you ‘sir'," I corrected.

He frowned at me. "They are one and the same."

"Really, they aren't as ‘sir' is one-syllable and ‘master' is two and—"

"Charlotte, you are quickly making me regret bringing you on this trip."

I laughed. I couldn't help it and my laugh seemed to bring a smile to his face. Then the smile dropped and his frown was back in place. "While we are on this errand, you will not refer to me as ‘master' or ‘sir'."

"Very good."

"Now, what were you so poorly trying to explain to me?"

I cleared my throat as I tried to recall. "I just meant… You didn't seem yourself when you said goodnight last evening. My apologies."

How ridiculous did that sound? But it got a reaction. Nicolo slumped a little in his saddle. "Ah. I knew what you meant. I suppose…"

"There's no need to explain."

"Good, because I don't think I can."

That night at the banquet had changed things, not necessarily because of Balduin, but because of Nicolo and me. It can be very difficult to come so close to crossing that Rubicon, so close to laying together—something we had both wanted so badly—and then for it not to happen. The natural thing to do was to pick up where you left off at the next possible opportunity, but our situation was an awkward one. There was the Balduin circumstance, the master and squire circumstance, the fact that Nicolo had suddenly learned about his mother (which I wasn't supposed to know about), and the fact that I was supposed to be assassinating him (which he didn't know about). These are the sorts of things that can complicate a friendship.

But there was more than just that. Beyond our specific situation, we were two people—two colleagues who had gotten caught up in the heat of the moment and nearly done something silly. It would have been pure lust; aggressive, animal passion—maybe not ideal for my first time and certainly not ideal when we saw each other in the morning. There had been something between us, but the near miss had made us both step back, put the situation and each other into perspective and reassess.

Sometimes these things are just about the moment, and a moment is a damned hard thing to recapture. The point being; it makes things between the two people involved really quite awkward. I was doing my best to alleviate the strangeness between us by making jokes as often as I could, but even that was starting to seem awkward too.

"Well…" I shrugged. "At least we have a nice day for it."

Nicolo smiled. "You're a good squire, Charlotte. You come with a bag of problems I wouldn't get from anyone else, certainly, but also with myriad advantages I wouldn't get from anyone else also."

"Is that a compliment?"

Nicolo shook his head. "No. But it's the reason I haven't replaced you."

"I was wondering why that was."

"It's a subject of some debate in court," replied Nicolo.

I could believe that, and I could guess what they all thought; he was bedding me. That was how their minds worked. And, frankly, that was also Nicolo's reputation.

"Well, whyever I am here, I am happy to be."

"Good." There was that smile again, so different to the one he wore back in the Great Castle. "It is a good place to be."

"Yes."

"Nice weather too."

"Yes. And the fresh air is…" I struggled. "Fresh."

"Yes. Very."

We lapsed into silence again. Silences come in many shapes and sizes, they can be small and intimate between two people who know each other so well that words have ceased to be necessary. This one was as big and uncomfortable as that woolly sweater your gran knitted for you on Christmas and which itched like a platoon of army ants had made camp underneath it.

I rifled my brain for something to say and found nothing. How could something that had been so easy and natural a few weeks ago now be so irrationally difficult? At that point, it felt as if any interruption would have been welcome. That swiftly proved to be inaccurate.

The path curved down into a grove of olive trees, shaded and quiet.

Or not so quiet.

What was that?

I shifted uneasily in my saddle. Had I just heard something?

Or maybe it was the absence of sound that was bothering me? It suddenly seemed as if all the birds were holding their breath.

But it wasn't the sound. It wasn't anything. Yet it was something.

"Master…" I started, forgetting Nicolo's order for me not to call him as such, but before I could finish, I heard the swish of the arrow's approach and on instinct, I clapped my hand against the flank of Proteus as hard as I could. The animal jolted forward in shock while I threw myself flat on the neck of my horse, feeling the arrow pass over my back and behind Nicolo.

"Get down!" Nicolo yelled, dismounting in a single smooth motion and dragging me off my horse after. "I knew I shouldn't have brought you with me."

He was right, he shouldn't have. But not for the reason he thought.

"Where did it come from?"

"That way!"

We let the horses go and dashed for the shelter of the trees on the opposite side of the path, peering out from behind our cover, trying to get a glimpse of our attacker.

It didn't have to be Taurus. Nicolo had more enemies than I did, so who was to say this wasn't one of his? Except it was Taurus. I knew it the same way I'd known there was something wrong before I heard the arrow. It had been the same feeling I'd gotten in my bedroom the last time Taurus had come for me. It's hard to describe the sixth sense that assassins develop; it's something that can't be taught, there's no training, no way of instilling that sense into youngsters. But if you didn't learn it, then you died.

"See him?" asked Nicolo.

"No." I admitted. Taurus had always been good at camouflage and the surprise attack; it seemed as if that hadn't changed. I squinted into the trees, scanning every inch of the scenery before me. I'd always been able to find him. Well… usually. Sometimes.

"Stay here," instructed Nicolo.

"No! I won't!" I reached out to grab him; I couldn't let him risk his own life (or lose it) because of me. And, yes, I didn't miss the irony in that thought, given the reason why I'd come into contact with him in the first place. But there it was.

Nicolo angrily shook my hand off. "What did you say?"

I should have told him the assassin was here for me first and him second, but that would have meant admitting the truth and if we were going to die, then I didn't want his last thoughts of me to be ones of anger.

"I know I'm being difficult and you can beat me for my disobedience later, but I can't and I won't leave you."

"Charlotte—"

I shook my head emphatically. "You're… well, you're my friend."

He sneered at me. "Don't be ridiculous. You're barely more than a servant."

But I didn't believe him because his tone of voice, his expression—both pointed to the fact that he was bluffing. To him, I was much more than a servant. "Call me whatever you like," I insisted, my feelings unscarred. "Treat me however you want, but I'm coming with you."

"Fine. Come on, then."

I saw his hand move as he attempted to knock me out cold for my own protection. But I caught his wrist as his fist came at me and I twisted it behind his back. But Nicolo was as quick as I was, reclaiming his wrist and turning the tables on me so we were pressed close to each other, arms locked, straining against each other's grip. It occurred to me that this was probably the closest we'd been since that night when we'd very nearly but not quite… and then it occurred to me that Taurus was still out there and we were fighting amongst ourselves.

"Someone is trying to kill us, need I remind you?" asked Nicolo, who was very clearly thinking along the same lines.

I opened my mouth to agree but again heard the swish of the arrow and, in response, Nicolo dragged us both down, so the arrow smacked into the tree trunk above our heads. Somehow Taurus had gotten around us without us noticing—possibly while we were bickering.

Nicolo and I broke apart then, rolling away from each other. Nicolo caught my eye and made a few curt hand signals. I nodded, and we set out to try and pin Taurus down. I took some comfort in the knowledge that Taurus was honor-bound to kill me first; Nicolo was not officially his commission until I was dead. Some people wouldn't have worried about following the rules to the letter (me, for instance), but Taurus was a stickler. It had been a pain in the ass when we'd been students together, but it was useful right now.

I'd beaten him at least a hundred times, all I needed was one more.

As the undergrowth grew thicker, I could no longer see Nicolo, nor where I was going. Remembering my training, I moved as silently as I could, listening for the movement of others through the tangled vegetation. Taking a pause, I scanned my surroundings, such as they were. In this damned thicket, Taurus could have been a foot away from me and I wouldn't have seen him. Maybe I could smoke him out by giving the game away, by making a noise. That was a risky game to play, but right now he had the upper hand and that wasn't going to change as long as I didn't know where he was.

A small noise would be best; one that sounded like someone trying to keep quiet and failing. I reached to draw my dagger…

"CHARLOTTE!"

Nicolo erupted out of the undergrowth, diving towards me. As he struck me, taking me to the ground, I saw the camouflaged figure in the branches above me dropping down, sword thrust downwards, missing me by inches as he landed.

Taurus.

He'd almost had me. If it hadn't been for Nicolo, I would have been run through with a sword. I would have been dead.

Rolling off me, Nicolo was back on his feet in an instant with sword drawn. He threw himself at Taurus and they crossed blades. I'd fought with both men and I'd beaten them both, but Nicolo had also beaten me—he and I were fairly evenly matched—while Taurus had never been able to get the better of me. That ought to have meant that Nicolo was the better fighter. On the other hand, Taurus might have learned more since I'd last trained with him, and I'd never gone full-blooded against Nicolo because he was my master and because I didn't want him to know how good I was. This fight would be close, and perhaps rather than lying here, thinking about it, I ought to have been unbalancing those odds.

I sprang to my feet. But the world spun around me and I almost went down again. Putting my hand to the back of my head, I felt a bump already rising and the stickiness of blood. I'd been so startled when Nicolo shoved me out of the way, I hadn't even noticed hitting my head.

Before me, Nicolo and Taurus were locked in combat. There was no doubt that Taurus was the more technically proficient fighter, but I wondered how many real fights he'd been in. Nicolo didn't do things by the book, but he'd been in many fights and every one of them had been not only for his life, but also for the life of his best friend. He didn't have the agile speed of Taurus, but Taurus didn't have the compact, brute strength of Nicolo. This was still anyone's fight, as they wove their way between the confining trees.

Struggling to make the world stop whirling around me, I picked my dagger up from the ground where I'd dropped it, and tried taking a step. The earth felt like jelly beneath me and I knew I couldn't go into combat like this. I was a liability; Nicolo would be forced to protect me, rather than focusing on Taurus. And right now, he needed all the focus he could muster.

Unfortunately, the terrain favored the assassin, who was trained to make use of his surroundings. Taurus jumped up to grab a tree branch and executed a graceful swinging kick, connecting perfectly with Nicolo's chin, knocking the bigger man to the ground and leaping after him. Though he went down, Nicolo didn't lose his cool, raising his blade to block Taurus's, continuing to fight, even though he was now on his back.

Damn it, I couldn't wait any longer. The sight of Nicolo fighting for his life sent me rushing forwards, shrugging off the wooziness that made it feel as if I was doing everything in slow motion and that my limbs were made of string. A sudden rise of nausea passed through me and it took everything within me not to regurgitate my breakfast.

Taurus grinned nastily as I attacked. He wanted to kill me first, and it was clear that I wasn't at my best. With a few quick strokes, he knocked me back, skillfully switching his attention between Nicolo and me.

A hundred practice fights came back to me. I'd looked into those eyes so many times and always seen a kind of frustrated desperation staring back; he'd wanted to beat me so badly. But today all I saw was vindictive smugness. He didn't want to beat me, he wanted to humiliate me, to torture me, to make me pay for every time I'd dared to be better than him.

Vainly I tried to shake off the fog that was shrouding my mind after that blow to the head, but it did no good. Everything was just a beat slow, my arms moved a moment after I wanted them to and kept moving a moment longer. It was all awkward; I felt as if I was controlling my body from a distance, like a marionette. It was all I could do to stave off Taurus's gleeful blows, and I wondered if he was allowing me to do so in order to string this out—he was having fun.

I winced as his blade nicked my right arm, then again as he made a matching cut on the left.

"What a fun game," he hissed at me, grinning madly.

"Thinking that way is why you'll never be a great assassin," I fired back.

It was true, but maybe making him mad and encouraging him to finish the job wasn't the smartest play. Taurus lunged forward, and it was only a lucky strike of mine that stopped him from running me through with his blade. But with his next two strokes, he disarmed me, the sword flying from my hand. The grin again suffused his face.

But then it became frozen as a blade burst through his chest, blood staining his camouflage. He dropped to the ground on his knees, shock still evident in his eyes, even as blood started pouring from his mouth. Nicolo stood behind him and pulling back his arm, extracted his blade. It was at that exact moment that I started to feel faint.

"Charlotte!" Nicolo rushed to me, catching my limp body. "You're hurt."

"Just a bit… I hit my head."

"You're bleeding."

"Bleeding…"

"Charlotte, keep your eyes open." There was something in his expression, his eyes, that looked a lot like panic.

I blinked as I tried to understand.

"Look at me, Charlotte," Nicolo continued as he gently lowered me to the ground. Then he held me in his arms and brought his hand up to my head. "Where does it hurt?"

"The back of my head," I whispered, but all the while, I couldn't break his gaze. It was almost like his eyes had hooked my own and I was caught in their brilliant rays.

"Breathe, Charlotte, nice long and deep breaths and keep looking at me."

I just nodded, half-hearing his voice and half-not. It was like a distant sound that crested through my ears and brought with it a balmy warmth. As he held my head in both hands, I could feel that warmth expanding from his hands and entering my body. It tickled almost—as though he'd released a thousand ants and now they were climbing through my hair, spreading out from my head to my face and down my neck and then down each of my arms before filing off each of my fingers and disappearing into the ground.

I broke his gaze and glanced down at my hands, only to find them glowing with the strangest blue light. "My fingers," I whispered, in awe.

"It's okay," Nicolo said as I glanced back up at him and suddenly noticed the pain in my head was gone. Not only that, but my energy had been returned to me. In fact, it felt as if I'd just awakened from the most restful sleep I'd ever had.

"You… you healed me."

He leaned back and gave me a big smile. "Yes, I suppose I did."

Neither of us said anything for a few seconds. I felt the back of my head and found the pain was completely absent, so was the welt and so was the blood.

"I don't understand," I started, but Nicolo interrupted me when he shook his head.

"Nor do I," he said. "But let us just consider it a gift and leave it at that." Then he glanced over at Taurus whose unseeing eyes stared at the sky above him. There was still a look of shock on his face. Nicolo breathed in deeply and then shook his head as he looked at me again. There was regret in his eyes. "I'm sorry, Charlotte," he said, his voice deep, full.

"Sorry for what?" I asked as I sat up and then carefully pushed to my feet. I didn't know how it was possible, but I was completely healed—I felt better than I had in a long while, actually.

He shook his head. "I'm used to being a target. I should never have brought you with me—I should have realized that doing so would put you in danger."

He thought Taurus had come for him—because why wouldn't he have thought as much? Why would an assassin target a maid-turned-squire? Short answer—he wouldn't. Perhaps it was wrong of me to allow Nicolo to think that, but I couldn't tell him the truth without revealing things I didn't want him to know.

"None of it matters because I'm alright," I answered with a little smile. "Thanks to you."

Nicolo nodded as he took the steps that separated us and before I knew what was happening, he grabbed my hand and pulled me towards him. "For a moment I thought…"

But he didn't finish because as soon as our eyes met, we were kissing.